


The Truth is Subjective

by I_was_BOTWP



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Marauders, Marauders' Era, POV Peter Pettigrew, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 09:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15116930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_was_BOTWP/pseuds/I_was_BOTWP
Summary: Peter Pettigrew was slowly feeling squeezed out of his group of friends. No matter how often James or Sirius insisted this last year at Hogwarts was going to be epic, Peter wasn't sure they meant to include him in anything, unless it was to be their lackey. When he continuously sees Regulus Black on the Marauder's Map, alone in unused classrooms, he decides to investigate. Written for the Facebook Group Quills & Parchment's "The Marauders' Seventh Year" One Shot Competition.





	The Truth is Subjective

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [themaraudersseventhyear](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/themaraudersseventhyear) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>     
> Regulus is in way over his head. Peter's friends are too busy being loved-up to hang out with him. They bond.
> 
> Either fluff with Peter helping Reg, or angst with Reg dragging Peter down with him.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you to my beta, AlexandraO, for all of her hard work.

An owl tapped on Peter Pettigrew’s kitchen window two days before the start of term. He recognized James Potter’s large barn owl. This was only the second time he had heard from James or Sirius the entire summer.

The other time had been to wish him a happy birthday. James’ owl had arrived in July carrying a box full of treats from Honeydukes and pranking items from Zonkos. Peter had started out excited because they remembered his birthday. He had gorged on chocolate and inspected the labels of every gag gift, reading up on how they worked, and scheming about the adventures he and his three best friends would share during the coming year — their last year.

However, as the day wore on, he fell into a state of moroseness. Why didn’t James and Sirius come in person to wish him a happy birthday? They could have apparated over. Both of them had passed the test during spring term. Or, they could have flown on their brooms. It would not have taken them even an hour to do so. That was what they had done two summers ago, the first time Sirius had spent most of the break with the Potter family. In fact, that summer before fifth year, all four boys had flown back and forth between the Pettigrew home and Potter home more times than Peter could clearly remember. On one occasion, Peter, Sirius, and James had even flown all of the way to the Lupin’s to surprise Remus. Last summer Peter had flown to the Potter home three times, and had traveled there through the Floo immediately when he received word about what the Black family had done to Sirius. Remus had Floo’ed over to see Peter four times that summer. Sirius and James had only ridden their brooms over twice, but not once had they come through his Floo.

The train ride back before sixth year had started out strangely, with James accusing Peter of becoming standoffish for not coming around anymore after the beginning of August. Peter feebly tried to get James and Sirius to understand that he had been waiting for them to come to see him, but in the end, he just murmured a quiet apology for being too busy with his family to hang out during the final month.  Remus had been out on his prefect patrol of the train when it happened, and by the time he returned, Sirius was gone to chat up a bird, or three, and James had gone in search of Lily Evans, most likely to stick his foot in his mouth. Remus returned to discover Peter reading alone, and had decided to open a book of his own, rather than talking. In retrospect, Remus probably never learned about the argument he missed.

Now, this summer, Peter had decided to let James and Sirius be the first to make a move to engage him. It was not an actual test of their friendship, just a little something to satisfy Peter’s curiosity. Or so he told himself.

As the feel-good buzz induced by the chocolate dissipated, Peter had decided they had not passed the test. Why he did not feel the need to test Remus was not something Peter dwelled on. Anyone could put together a package and have their owl deliver it. He could just imagine the scene: James and Sirius had probably nearly forgotten his birthday and had merely gone through the giant stashes of their own goods, looking for cast-off items to send him at the last minute. Yes, that is assuredly what had happened. They had dumped the items into a box, sealed it up, hastily scrawled  _H_ _appy Birthday Pete_ on the outside, and then sent it off without another thought for him. At least Remus had written a considerate note about all of the Marauders being men now, which he had slipped inside the cover of a book Peter knew had been picked just for him. Peter had not bothered sending a thank you note back to James and Sirius.

That all led up to now, August 30. Peter opened the parchment and read, _Guess what Pete? I made Head Boy! Imagine the possibilities! I’ll always know who’s on patrol, and where, weeks in advance. Between that, my cloak, and our map, we’ll spend this year detention-free! My parents are taking me out for dinner to celebrate; otherwise I’d write more. I’ll see you on the train, same compartment as every year. Sirius has an idea for something epic for the start of our last year. -James_

Not even a perfunctory sentence with some well wishes for Peter? Where was the explanation for why they had been ignoring him all summer? Instead of the apology Peter had been dreaming about, he found a letter full of gloating. And instead of asking for Peter to get ready to tell them all about the grand adventures he had undertaken the past two months, he would be expected to listen to Sirius detail some scheme.

“Wankers,” he swore, tearing the letter into the smallest pieces he could before tossing the scraps in a bin.

* * *

Of course, Lily Evans was Head Girl. Of fucking course she was. All ideas of an epic prank on the train seemed to fly right out of James’ head when he caught sight of the silvery glint of a badge on Lily’s jumper, signifying her elevated station. James mussed up his already unruly hair as he put on his best smile, completely ignoring that Peter had worked up to the best part of his story, where he met a cute little Finnish witch during his weekend in Brighton. She had agreed to meet him for a sunset walk, which had ended with them disillusioned under a pier and his hand in her knickers.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” James smirked, walking away without a second thought, a telltale gleam in his eye. Sirius had the audacity to whistle so loudly that the entire platform turned to look their way. Remus had rolled his eyes, then levitated his trunk towards the Express, most likely expecting the others to follow. Peter stood torn. Part of him wanted to watch what would happen between James and Lily. Would she dare to slap that goofy grin off his face in front of everyone’s parents?

Sirius broke into Peter’s reverie, by yelling out, “Get a room! Oh, that’s right, the Heads have their own rooms!” causing a blush from Lily, and for James to turn and give Sirius a wink. Peter grabbed his trunk and trotted towards Remus, not caring to listen to some question Sirius directed towards him regarding _Depulso_ versus _Evanesco._

 _Who cares about James and Lily’s non-existent relationship anyway? Not me,_ Peter affirmed his own question. _James will say something thoughtless, Lily will tell him off, leaving the two of them to get through whatever obligatory meeting they have with the prefects as quickly as possible._

Soon, the four Marauders would be ensconced in their compartment, sharing treats from the trolley. Everything would then go back to the way it used to be, right?

It turned out that just like last year’s first of September Hogwarts Express ride, Peter ended up alone for the beginning of the trip.

Remus was still a prefect and disappeared after hoisting his trunk up on a rack. “I need to help out getting the first years, and probably some older kids too, settled in properly,” he explained.

Sirius jumped back up from his seat as soon as the train rounded the bend out of Kings Cross station, saying, “I spotted Marlene McKinnon earlier on the platform, and she’s gotten fit over the summer.” He smirked as he slid open the compartment door, telling Peter, “I need a closer look - hopefully much closer.” The last Peter had seen of Sirius was a departing wink, followed by a throaty chuckle, which had lingered after he was out of sight.

Peter pulled out his dented pocket watch. He probably would have an hour to himself at this point. The notion of drawing the blinds, locking the door, and having one last wank in peace before he had to share a room with two other boys for the next nine months flitted through his mind. Rather than observing Marlene on the platform, Peter had been taking note of last year’s Hufflepuff Keeper’s hair out of the corner of his eye. It had gotten much shaggier over the summer; Peter wondered what it smelled like. Before his thoughts could go much further, he squelched the idea.

Ten minutes later found Peter reading a book, still alone, when a commotion began outside his compartment. Screams and various swear words filled the air. More than one student went running past in the hallway, some angrily pushing others out of their way, while others appeared to be doing nothing more than gawking. A witch Peter did not recognize ran by topless, her hands the only thing covering her bouncing tits. Setting his book down, Peter stood to see what the bloody hell was going on, only to have Regulus Black appear on the other side of the door, blocking Peter’s view.

“Where's my brother and that damn Potter?” Regulus growled, stepping into the compartment, grabbing the front of Peter's shirt, pulling him close in a threatening manner.

Regulus did not have his wand up at Peter's throat, but the way Regulus tapped it against his thigh was threatening enough. His own wand was stupidly stowed in his back pocket, and Peter was afraid to make a move to grab it.

“I don't know,” Peter stammered.

Regulus looked at him in disbelief. “What do you mean you don't know? You're trying to tell me that you had no idea someone was going to banish all the school robes on the train today?”

Peter was suddenly thankful he hadn't changed yet.

“You're always in on their pranks too,” Regulus continued, “aren't you?”

“Not lately,” Peter mumbled.

Regulus cocked his head and looked at Peter appraisingly. “What? Has your foursome had a little falling out?” Regulus mocked him.

Pushing Peter farther into the compartment, Regulus waved his wand to shut and lock the door behind him. He pinned Peter up against the glass windows as the countryside flew by behind him, before flicking his wand again. Peter watched helplessly as the blinds came down on the aisle window, leaving the two cut off from the rest of the train's occupants.

Out of habit, Peter opened his mouth to defend his mates. Finding the words stuck in his throat, he quickly shut it again. Regulus chuckled lowly. An awareness of the lean body pressed against him flowed through Peter's senses when the sound reverberated in his own chest. He may not know what Hufflepuff's Keeper smelled like, but he now most certainly knew what Slytherin’s Seeker did.

“So,” Regulus drawled, “Maybe now you're finally seeing my brother's true colors. It must have occurred to you at least once before that Sirius doesn't truly care about anyone but himself. Except maybe Potter. He certainly doesn't care for the slags he’s always running around with. And if you think for one moment he wouldn't sell you out the same way he sold out his own blood, his _t_ _rue_ family…” Regulus's voice hitched just for a moment, then he moved his face even closer, his words gravely in Peter's ear, “Well then I must have misjudged your intelligence.”

Inside Peter's head, he heard a quiet cry telling him to push Regulus off, insisting that he deny the allegations. But how could he, when a louder call exalted over his deepest, darkest thoughts being voiced aloud? All Peter could do was stay mute, wishing he could ignore the way Regulus' heart beat against him erratically, while attempting to tame his own rapid breathing. Regulus pulled back and licked his lips, possibly with the intent to say more. Peter would never know; the moment was broken by the rattling of the locked door.

“James Potter, I know you're in there!” A familiar voice screeched. “Open the door this instant!  You can't hide from me. _Alohomora_!”

The door flew open with a bang, an instant after Regulus jumped back from Peter. “Oh Black, you're already here,” Lily Evans said, looking slightly confused.

“Why, yes,” Regulus stated, “Did you not tell all the prefects to go out and search for the culprits? I figured the best place to start was where my brother and Potter always hang out.”

“Any luck then?” Lily inquired. She glanced at Peter who was failing at inconspicuously smoothing down his shirt. Peter blushed. She quirked an eyebrow at him. “You alright there Pete?” she asked.

“Fine. Fine,” Peter lied.

Lily looked back to Regulus, a frown on her face. “Well?” she questioned again.

“No, no one's here,” Regulus said. “Besides Pettigrew, that is, and he doesn't know anything as far as I can tell.”

Rolling her eyes, Lily snorted, “I doubt that.” She turned back towards the hall, red hair whipping behind her. “It's not like they could have gotten off the train,” she noted as she strode away.

Regulus looked back at Peter, a small smirk on his face, “I'll be seeing you around, Pettigrew.”

Shortly thereafter, Remus came huffing into the compartment, falling into the seat across from Peter. By then, Peter had had more than enough time to compose himself. He set the book he had been holding down (so what if he hadn’t turned a page the entire time he had been holding it?) and looked at his sandy-haired friend.

“I suppose you know what our idiot friends have done by now?” Remus asked needlessly.

“Were you a part of it?” Peter heard the quiver in his voice and hated himself for it.

“They told me they had a plan for one last prank on the train ride up to the school,” Remus confirmed.

The logical part of Peter’s brain told him he should feel better knowing that Remus had been left out too. An insistent whisper asked if it was the truth. Remus was a prefect, with duties, after all. What had Peter been doing, other than sitting there, available to help?

The door slid open again. There stood the duo whom everyone had been looking for. Sirius was laughing so hard James had to support his weight. James dropped beside Peter when Sirius chose to collapse on Remus. James slung an arm over Peter's shoulders, and what should have been familiar felt... odd. Peter nearly shrugged the arm away, but caught Remus watching, and second-guessed the urge.

An hour later, Peter congratulated himself on his excellent job of pretending to enjoy the story as Sirius and James recounted how they planned and pulled off the prank, nodding and laughing in all the right places.

That night, long after the welcoming feast was over, when everyone had retired to their dorms, Peter laid in his bed, the curtains drawn tight. He reflected back on the train ride, feeling his anger at being left out bubble up once again, and his jealousy of the easy friendship between Sirius and James sink in deeper.

Try as he might, Peter could not stop his thoughts from straying to the interaction with Regulus. The confusion he had felt while it happened now intensified. Remembering the feel of the Slytherin against his body should have been repulsive. Peter's pulse quickened. If Lily had not come in exactly when she had, where would the encounter have gone? What had Regulus  intended when he licked his lips? Picturing the moment when the other boy’s tongue darted out, Peter let his mind lead him down a tantalizing path. Imaginary Regulus shifted his body ever so slightly, his leg nudging between Peter's. Peter panted when Regulus ground an unfamiliar, yet unmistakable, hardness against his hip.

Peter decided now might be an okay time for that wank after all.

* * *

James came through on the patrol schedule.  One week into the term, he strutted into the dorms he no longer shared with the other three boys, proud as a peacock.

“Bet you thought I forgot, didn’t you?” he crowed, as he passed out copies of the schedules for all of September and October.

“Looks the same as the one I got at our meeting two nights ago,” Remus noted dryly, after taking a perfunctory glance at the parchment.

“Yes, well, I’ll be the _first_ to know of any changes to it,” James blustered.

Sirius barked out a laugh, “Unless Lily knows first.”

Pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes, James made to grab the sheet back from Sirius’ hand. “Tut, tut,” Sirius clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I didn’t say I don’t want it.” Sirius turned to Peter. “Did you hear me say I didn’t want it?”

“Sirius always _wants_ it.” Peter smiled. “In fact, _he’s gagging for it._ ”

Remus slapped his thigh, laughing at Sirius’ bright red face. “He got you there, mate. You walked right into that one.”

Somewhere along the way, the night devolved into a wrestling match, which ended with Sirius turning into Padfoot and licking everyone else’s faces until they cried uncle.

* * *

The first time Peter was sent out into the castle on a solo mission, to liberate some essential potions ingredients for their next prank from Slughorn’s stores, he felt important. The other three trusted him to take care of what was needed on his own. They convened in the dorms, going over the plan one last time.

James had already explained that they would need an alibi. It would start with him spending time with Lily in the shared Head common room. Shifting blame on the Marauders became difficult if he was busy revising their Charms essay with her.

Remus confirmed he planned to be in the library, tutoring some third years in Defense against the Dark Arts. Peter nodded his head.

“Good luck, Pete,” Sirius saluted him, as he grabbed his broom. “Dorcas asked me for a bit of help in her broom-handling skills.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I’m fairly certain I won’t be needing this,” he held up his Clean Sweep, “but, better take it just in case she meant something truly kinky.”

After seeing them all off, Peter waited alone in the dorm, until the agreed-upon time for him to make his way down to the dungeons.

Even without the cover of James’ cloak, Peter felt confident with the Marauder’s Map in his hands. He would have preferred the invisibility cloak over his Disillusionment Charm, but he still easily slid past the few students out in the halls and on the staircases. It was not past curfew yet, but it would be before he made it back to his room. Unlike some professors, Slughorn did not keep long office hours for students seeking assistance. The old wizard was already in his private chamber for the night, according to the map.

Peter paused on the third floor, waiting for Moaning Myrtle to float back down the hall to her toilet. His eyes roved the map, making sure no one else was moving his way.

In a broom closet on the fifth floor, Peter observed the names Sirius Black and Dorcas Meadowes standing very close together. _Looks like Sirius could have left that Clean Sweep behind,_ Peter noted.

Then another name caught Peter’s eye. Regulus Black was alone in an unused classroom on the main floor, pacing back and forth. Peter wondering what he was doing in there. Was he practicing spells in secret? Sirius had said more than once his little brother was dabbling in things darker than he understood. Perhaps REgulus needed a place to hide from someone. A strange twist hit Peter’s stomach as it occurred to him that Regulus could be awaiting an assignation.

Peter scanned the map again, attempting to decipher if anyone was moving in Regulus’ direction. If he were meeting someone, who would it be? Over the past few weeks, Peter had attempted to hide his hyper-awareness of the younger Black brother whenever their paths crossed. Usually, it was easy to steal glimpses of him in the crowded Great Hall at meal times, with no one the wiser. Recalling his disdain for Sirius’ _slags_ , Peter had been sure to catalogue a lack of any witches being shown favor by Regulus.

The more difficult time to ignore Regulus was on Tuesday afternoons when the 6th year Slytherins and Ravenclaws had Astronomy directly following the 7th year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. More than once now, Peter had found himself caught in Regulus’ stare upon exiting the stairs from the tower. The silver-eyed wizard made a habit of positioning himself opposite the exit, effortlessly confident in his stance against the wall. It occurred to Peter that as much as Sirius wished to deny he was anything like his brother, there were moments like these when they were so eerily similar. Except, Sirius had never looked at Peter quite like this.

What if Peter decided to take a detour on his way to the Potions storage cupboard? Who would ever know? As long as he didn’t dally too long. A half-formed idea percolated in Peter’s mind when he still didn’t see any names on the map moving towards the first-floor classroom.

Peter’s inattention to anything besides that one spot on the map cost him dearly. By the time heard _Mrrreow_ , it was too late.  He whispered the spell to wipe the map clean, hoping Professor McGonagall would overlook it in the two seconds it took her to transform back to her human self.

“If you think I don’t know you’re standing there, Mister Pettigrew, you are sorely mistaken,” she said in her typical no-nonsense manner.

Reluctantly, Peter canceled his concealment charm.

“I’m surprised to find you out alone this close to curfew.” Her words prickled Peter. Did she think him incompetent of functioning without his friends?

Some piece of his ire must have shown on his face, because the teacher’s face softened.

“Usually when I find a young man skulking in an unused area of the castle, there is a witch close behind.” McGonagall winked.

“Right,” Peter breathed a sigh. “Well, she must have already heard us and wisely turned back. Maybe I can still catch her in time to wish her goodnight.” He gave her what he hoped was a winning grin.

“I think I’ll just escort you back to your common room, if that’s alright with you, Mister Pettigrew. If we come upon your witch, she is welcome to walk along, as long as she gets back to her common room before curfew, too.” The witch was sly, Peter had to give her that much.

Peter sat silently while his three friends berated him for mucking up his mission. Regulus’ name was at a standstill in the Slytherin dorms when Peter finally had a chance to look again.

* * *

“I’ll do it!” Peter quickly volunteered himself two weeks later when it was decided late night snacks were needed from the kitchens. Remus and Sirius looked at him in disbelief. The latter he was becoming more and more used to underestimating him. The former stung. “I want to make up for last week,” he quickly clarified.

Sirius clapped Peter on the back. “That’s the spirit! You’re a good sport, Pete.”

“I’ll just grab the map and be off,” Peter said, doing his utmost not to grit his teeth.

“Let me come with you,” Remus suddenly volunteered.

“No need,” Peter assured him. “James gave me the updated patrol schedule this morning when he knew he would be busy all weekend putting the finishing touches on the Halloween Dance. I know the patterns of the prefects on duty tonight and can easily avoid them. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Trying not to seem too eager, Peter picked up the map and his wand, and left their dorm. He paused just outside the door, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Do you think Pete’s acting odd lately?” he overheard Remus ask, confirming the suspicion that they talked about him behind his back.

“What?” Sirius asked in disbelief. “Nah. I mean we’re all different this year, right? Getting ready to deal with everything that’s out there.”

And there was the kick straight to the bollocks he’d come to expect from Sirius. What kind of friend was he to dismiss that question so nonchalantly? Remus had plenty of his own worries to deal with. Peter knew that once they left Hogwarts, there would be little chance for a werewolf to find steady employment. And the Lupins weren’t any better off financially than his own family. Yet, there was Sirius once again, only vaguely aware of ‘everything out there’ and the ways the world could affect anyone without his privilege. How could Peter count on someone like that?

Peter went down a few flights of steps, only pausing to Disillusion himself before he made it all of the way to the common room. He waited until someone else was coming through the portrait hole and he slipped out into the corridor. Around the corner, he snuck behind a tapestry with a small alcove behind it. Although not an unknown spot, it was rarely used by anyone, as it was so close to the common room entrance. People tended to want to get further away before they hid away for whatever reason.

Peter nearly crowed with glee when his hunch proved correct. Regulus was once again alone in an unused classroom - this time on the fourth floor. It was a pattern he had noticed on the nights the other boy wasn’t assigned to patrol. Along with that knowledge was the observation that as of yet, no one had joined him. Tonight, Peter intended to solve the mystery.

This time around, Peter made sure to track any inhabitants between himself and Regulus. He didn’t want a repeat of last time. So single-minded was he in reaching his goal, he unexpectedly found himself reaching for the door handle of the classroom without any plan for what came next.

A hiss escaped his lips when he realized his stupidity. He couldn’t just go barging in there, not knowing what Regulus was actually up to. He tried to make up his mind on the best approach. With nothing to go on, it seemed Gryffindor courage and the hope he wasn't mistaking the look in Regulus’ eyes on the occasions he dared to allow his to meet them, would have to suffice. Looks like he was barging in after all. He slipped the map into his pocket and pushed open the door.

“Black,” Peter began, “why are you skulking in here?” Peter almost continued with a snide remark about Regulus spending his evenings taunting Muggleborn students with his friends but quickly decided insulting the other boy was not the avenue he wished to take. He blushed, realizing his one sentence sounded stupid all by itself. He struggled to find something, anything, else to say.

Regulus’ face flashed from confusion to cockiness in a heartbeat. He slowly stalked towards Peter, eying him intently. Peter took a step back towards the door.

“I don’t think so, Pettigrew,” Regulus advised him, before cutting off his exit with a quick slash of his wand. Peter hadn’t even realized it was in his hand. He gulped when he heard the lock click. “I think it best we add a silencing spell, too. Don’t you?”

Peter felt light-headed, anticipating something momentous. Still at a loss for words, he nodded in response to Regulus’ question. When Regulus cast a _Silencio_ at the door, Peter wiped his clammy hands on his trousers.

“Now to answer your question, I am not skulking. I have been waiting for you. Nothing more, nothing less.” Regulus’ voice sounded like honey. He hadn’t stopped his leisurely prowl towards Peter this entire time, and he now stood no more than two meters away.

“For weeks?” Peter blurted out, unthinking.

The implication behind those words caused Regulus to pause in his pursuit. His eyebrows shot up. “How do you know what I’ve been doing, _for weeks_?” he demanded.

Peter’s hand twitched towards the pocket the map sat in. He broke eye contact with Regulus, resolutely staring at a point over the other boy’s shoulder. A low chuckle startled him.

“You are a shite liar, Pettigrew. It’s a wonder your bunch gets away with anything. Do you have any idea how much we snakes abhor the favoritism shown to you lions? You already have an unfair advantage with how much Dumbledore allows to slide by unnoticed. Come to find out you have something that helps you find people in the castle?” Regulus has quickly surmised exactly the advantage Peter held.

Peter considered Regulus’ accusation. Did the professors let him and his friends get away with more than other students? He’d never thought so when serving detention, cleaning up stalls in the stables with Professor Kettleburn. Shame swept through him suddenly. He remembered the full moon when Sirius had led Snivellus to the Whomping Willow, nearly causing Remus to catch the slimy git.

Severus Snape was undoubtedly an arsehole, but what was Sirius in this scenario? The boy who had neatly gotten away with attempted murder? Peter shook his head. No, that wasn’t right. In his confusion, he focused back on Regulus. Was that pity he saw?

“Fuck off, Black!” Having similar thoughts about his friends for months now was confusing enough, but who did Regulus think he was to put them down. What right did he have?

Regulus smirked. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Truth? You want the truth?” Peter shouted hoarsely, striding forward to close the gap between them. “I’ll give you the truth.”

Peter grabbed the other boy around the neck and pulled his face within inches of his own. Expecting to be met with resistance, he was shocked when Regulus closed the remaining space and crashed his lips down on Peter’s.

Peter had only kissed girls before. Okay, a girl. Amelia Bones had pulled him into a celebratory kiss after Gryffindor won the Quidditch cup fifth year. Her lips had been chapped, and his teeth had awkwardly knocked into hers. The interaction had been brief; Peter stumbling away, stuttering an apology for Godric knows what, since he’d been the one to attack him.

This kiss was nothing like that kiss. This kiss was soft lips moving in time with his, the initial fervor slowing down when Regulus perceived Peter wasn’t fighting to get away. This kiss was small sighs between nips of teeth on bottom lips. This kiss was a velvety tongue sliding into Peter’s mouth, then pulling back out, begging to be chased by his own tongue.

Peter drew in a breath through his nose, once again noting how _good_ Regulus smelled. One arm was still held tight around the other boy’s neck, while his other hand roamed the slim Seeker’s back.

A shift in Regulus’ weight against Peter’s body reminded him of his fantasy that first night back, and many more that had followed since. Instead of turning him on further, it served as a cold shower on his ardor. The events unfolding in this dusty classroom were _not_ some imagined scene he conjured in the privacy of his four-poster up in Gryffindor tower. Peter pulled back, noting Regulus’ swollen lips, ruddy cheeks, and dilated eyes.

“What is this?” Peter whispered, further breaking the moment.

Regulus sighed. “Why do we have to label it?”

“Everything has a label, whether you want it to or not,” Peter returned. “Just because you don’t say it out loud, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

“You have no fucking idea, do you mate?” Regulus ran a hand through his hair. The gesture bespoke a nervousness Peter wasn't used to seeing in the other wizard.

Peter got the feeling Regulus wasn’t thinking of their present situation anymore. He’d heard grumblings of Death Eaters recruiting younger members. He and his friends had talked about it more than once as they sat in the secluded Shrieking Shack, waiting for the moon to rise. Was Regulus a Death Eater? Before his thoughts could go much further down that path, one where Peter could only imagine someone younger than himself would be in way over his head, Regulus returned to the matter at hand.

“How about we call it _The Truth_ , then?” Regulus narrowed his eyes in challenge.

Peter took a step back. “Going to throw that in my face, are you?”

“Pettigrew, sadly, that is the only way to get you to acknowledge anything right under your nose.” Regulus shook his head slightly, that look of pity back in his eyes.

“What do you mean by that?” Peter asked sharply, crossing his arms defensively over his chest.

He supposed the answer would be something about the two of them and what had just transpired. Peter began to panic. Was this all some sort of sick set-up? Were other Slytherins going to materialize to laugh and point at _the queer boy_?

Relief flooded Peter’s body when Regulus said, “You know Potter is probably shagging Evans, don’t you?”

Peter’s nose twitched. “You must be joking. Evans barely tolerates James. I can only imagine the tension in their shared common room.”

“If by tension, you mean the sexual kind, then yes, there is plenty of tension in that common room.” Regulus shot back. “I walked in on them snogging nearly a month ago now, when I went to ask for a patrol shift trade.”

“Liar,” Peter seethed.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Regulus told him, “You can choose to believe the truth, or not, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”

“No, it doesn’t make sense. Lily still treats him with disdain every time he flirts with her. He tried to sit by her at lunch just today, and she immediately stood up, saying she needed to go to the library before her next class started. Remus laughed at the idea that musty 1000-year-old scrolls were a better alternative to sitting next to James for even twenty minutes.” Peter paused considering everything. “And if it were true, why haven’t you told anyone?”

“What would I gain by letting out their secret? There’s more power to had in _keeping a secret_.” Regulus gloated. He waved his wand at the door, reciting the incantations to unlock it and remove the silencing spell. Looking over his shoulder at Peter as he left the blond standing there, trying to absorb everything that had happened to turn Peter’s world upside down, Regulus lobbed a final parting shot, “The next time we meet up like this Pettigrew, I’d call it snogging.”

* * *

Desperately, Peter attempted to avoid Regulus over the ensuing weeks. At least in person, as it was more difficult to control the way his mind wandered when he endeavored to ignore his insistent erection every night and morning. One thing that kept on running through Peter's mind on a loop was Regulus' casual admittance of using others and their secrets to his own end. What use did the younger Black have for Peter?

In addition to avoiding the cunning Slytherin, he was watching James and Lily for some clue that what he had been told was true. It worried him in equal parts that he couldn’t see any difference and that he was expecting to see some sign.

The stress of it all culminated on a night when Peter was once again the person sent out alone, this time to make his way down the secret passage to Honeydukes to nick some chocolate. Remus was running low after November’s full moon. Peter morphed into his rat form to run down the passage on the way out to Hogsmeade, saving some time. On the way back, he stayed in his human form, chewing on a sugar quill he had taken for himself. He stupidly wasn’t paying attention when he came from behind the One-Eyed Witch and ran right into Filch. The cantankerous old bastard confiscated everything in Peter’s pockets on the spot, including the map.

The shouting in the seventh year boy dorms atop Gryffindor tower was epic that night. The next day everyone knew the Marauders had had a falling out of some sort. Peter was slumped over his porridge, avoiding eye contact with everyone. On his way out the door, someone bumped his shoulder. Peter looked up to tell the person off and found Regulus. The boy mouthed a single word as he passed by, “Truth.”

That night, Peter found him again in the classroom on the fourth floor. There were no preliminary niceties. Not even an inquiry from Regulus as to what had caused the row between Peter, his brother, and the other two Gryffindors. And this time, it was Peter who changed the angle of his body, enjoying the groan he elicited from Regulus when his thigh rubbed against the other boy’s hard cock. He allowed Regulus to ride him, slowly at first, relishing the friction. His own dick ached to be directly touched, rather than the accidental action it was getting from their position, but right now he was reveling in the power he held over the usually cool Slytherin.

When the pace of Regulus’ bucking picked up, Peter broke their kiss to work apart Regulus’s perfectly knotted tie and rip open the top two button of his oxford. Peter hastily latched onto the revealed juncture of neck and shoulder. He sucked off the salty sheen he found there.

“Fucking Salazar, Pettigrew.” Regulus ground his hips harder against Peter, grunting in time with his frenzied thrusts.

Peter reached down to grab Regulus’ arse, urging him towards his orgasm. He bit down on the frantic pulse beneath his lips.

“Merlin,” Regulus moaned as his body arched and Peter felt a warm wetness spread through his trousers.

Straightening up, Peter found Regulus regarding him with lidded eyes. “That was… bloody amazing,” he said languidly.

A glance down revealed no surprises to Peter. There was a wet spot on his thigh, not far below his own jutting cock. Self-consciously, he went to adjust his length, wondering if he could get it to calm down enough to make it back to his bed, or if he’d have to find a loo along the way.

“No, let me,” Regulus demanded, putting his hand over the top of Peter’s. “Tell me how you like it,” he added as he gave a firm squeeze.

“Unghhh,” Peter answered inarticulately. He wanted to say he would like anything that involved Regulus touching him. The other boy seemed to get the non-verbal clue when he pushed Peter’s hand aside and a couple of experimental pumps along Peter’s still-cloth-covered erection resulted in similar sounds of pleasure.

It took no time whatsoever for Peter to reach his peak, gasping for breath as he came down.

When Sirius, Remus, and James apologized the next morning, saying they had gone overboard and it really could have happened to any of them, adding that with the holidays coming up, and only six months left in their school career they probably didn’t need the map anymore at this point, Peter gracefully accepted.

After sneaking back into his bed last night, Peter had had an epiphany of sorts. The other three Marauders never would know it suited Peter’s needs to have the map unavailable, thus disallowing any prying eyes to bear witness to the names Peter Pettigrew and Regulus Black alongside each other in a broom closet.


End file.
